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Tuesday, 2 June 2015

Downfall Chapter 1

Jake knew he was insane, there was no point denying
that. The question he needed answered
was whether he was also right. If he was
right, then he was slightly less mad than everyone else, and had to find out
why. If he was wrong… He was willing to
risk a lifetime in a nut house if it meant knowing the truth. He was willing to risk death. He could tolerate those, but he couldn’t
tolerate not knowing if he was living a lie.

Certainly if he told anyone what he really thought, he
could fit just about every diagnosis in the book. Paranoid delusions, multiple personalities,
voices in his head, all there, though perhaps they aren’t “delusions”. So far the only diagnosis he allowed himself
to be given was ADHD. Drug dealers were
loathsome creatures, but when you are stuck with certain limitations you have
to make do. You can’t do much on $10 a
week, and while selling off ADHD meds isn’t that profitable, it does cover the
cost of travel, the occasional small bribe, and a gun.

An image flashed in his mind of a newspaper article about
a kid overdosing on the same medication.
He couldn’t help but wonder if – unlikely as it is – it was one of his
pills that killed them. If he was wrong,
he was nothing more than another criminal and perhaps soon to cement his label
as a murderer.

Of course the mere fact he was where he was, doing what
he was doing was at least some degree of proof that he was right, that he
wasn’t completely insane. He knew far
too much about far too many things no one seemed to know about. He picked up languages in a matter of
days. He followed lead after lead, from
corner drug dealers, to mob leaders and businessmen right to the top. He found his way into the house of a US
Senator that he had proof was behind one of the largest drug operations in the
country. He did it, without any help
from anyone, and no one else could. That
meant something. That was truth. But it wasn’t the answer he needed. He needed to know why.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when the senator got
home. Part of him was fantasizing that
all this would be simple. That he’d come
home and remove his head, exposing an alien body or some such thing that could
be shot on the spot and revealed for what it really was. He knew that much at least wasn’t likely… He
wasn’t that far up the chain of command.
Yet.

This would be hard.
No one ever took Jake seriously, and now he needed to be taken very
seriously. This man needed to know that
if he didn’t tell the truth, he would die then and there. Hopefully the mask would help. A crazy apparent midget in a mask with a gun,
surely that would scare anyone?

This was his last chance to turn back. He knew he couldn’t be caught, he was smart
enough to avoid that. But if he was
wrong, he’d have to turn himself in. If
he was wrong, he is far too dangerous to be allowed to go free. Maybe he’d just kill himself to be safe. That would be best – if he is wrong.

He sat on the senator’s bed in the dark, quietly rotating
the barrel of his gun. Regardless of
what happens tonight, one of the biggest drug lords in the world is about to go
down. That is a good thing at least, it
won’t solve any problems for long, but at least if he is insane, the person who
will suffer most for it isn’t an innocent.
All the proof needed was already on its way to the FBI and a hundred or
more news stations, no point wasting all that good evidence collected over the last
year.

A car quietly rolled up to the garage and came to a
halt. It was time. Jake wished he could have waited a few more
years to do this. He felt a pang of
sadness thinking about his friends, his family.
There was no going back to them now.
If he is wrong, he would end his own life somewhere a long way away and
no one would ever know who he was. If he
is right… If he is right, everything will change.

Jake couldn’t help but wonder if there were any other 8
year olds in the world who have gone through the same thing.